Part 33 (1/2)
”One of those boats means to blow us out of existence if it can,” mused Jack. ”The other cannot know of our existence. And yet, if she doesn't, what is she doing here, headed for the rock?”
With that Jack scrambled, slid and jumped down. Drummond was very quiet and serious. Repeating rifles stood in a row on the opposite wall, easy to get at, but as far off as might be from the effects of a possible sh.e.l.l. The two young men now mounted the stone bench by the door, which allowed them to look over the ledge at the eastern sea. Presently the craft appeared round the end of the island, pure white, floating like a swan on the water, and making great headway.
”By Jove!” said Jack, ”she's a fine one. Looks like the Czar's yacht, but no Russian vessel I know of can make that speed.”
”She's got the ear-marks of Th.o.r.n.ycroft build about her,” commented Drummond. ”By Jove, Jack, what luck if she should prove to be English.
No flag flying, though.”
”She's heading for us,” said Jack, ”and apparently she knows which side the cannon is on. If she's Russian, they've taken it for granted we've captured the whole place, and are in command of the guns. There, she's turning.”
The steamer was abreast of the rock, and perhaps three miles distant.
Now she swept a long, graceful curve westward and drew up about half a mile east of the rock.
”Jove, I wish I'd a pair of good gla.s.ses,” said Drummond. ”They're lowering a boat.”
Jack showed more Highland excitement than Russian stolidity, as he watched the oncoming of a small boat, beautifully riding the waves, and masterfully rowed by sailors who understood the art. Drummond stood imperturbable as a statue.
”The sweep of those oars is English, Jack, my boy.”
As the boat came nearer and nearer Jack became more and more agitated.
”I say, Alan, focus your eyes on that man at the rudder. I think my sight's failing me. Look closely. Did you ever see him before?”
”I think I have, but am not quite sure.”
”Why, he looks to me like my jovial and venerable father-in-law, Captain Kempt, of Bar Harbor. Perfectly absurd, of course: it can't be.”
”He does resemble the Captain, but I only saw him once or twice.”
”Hooray, Captain Kempt, how are you?” shouted Jack across the waters.
The Captain raised his right hand and waved it, but made no attempt to cover the distance with his voice. Jack ran pell-mell down the steps, and Drummond followed in more leisurely fas.h.i.+on. The boat swung round to the landing, and Captain Kempt cried cordially:
”h.e.l.lo, Prince, how are you? And that's Lieutenant Drummond, isn't it?
Last time I had the pleasure of seeing you, Drummond, was that night of the ball.”
”Yes,” said Drummond. ”I was very glad to see you then, but a hundred times happier to see you to-day.”
”I was just cruising round these waters in my yacht, and I thought I'd take a look at this rock you tried to obliterate. I don't see any perceptible damage done, but what can you expect from British marksmans.h.i.+p?”
”I struck the rock on the other side, Captain. I think your remark is unkind, especially as I've just been praising the watermans.h.i.+p of your men.”
”Now, are you boys tired of this summer resort?” asked Captain Kempt.
”Is your baggage checked, and are you ready to go? Most seaside places are deserted this time of year.”
”We'll be ready in a moment, captain,” cried his future son-in-law. ”I must run up and get the Governor. We've put a number of men in prison here, and they'll starve if not released. The Governor's a good old chap, though he played it low down on me a few days ago,” and with that Jack disappeared up the stairway once more.
”Had a gaol-delivery here?” asked the Captain.
”Well, something by way of that. The Prince drilled a hole in the rock, and we got out. We've put the garrison in p.a.w.n, so to speak, but I've been mighty anxious these last few days because the sail-boat they had here, and two of the garrison, escaped to the mainland with the news. We were anxiously watching your yacht, fearing it was Russian. Jack thought it was the Czar's yacht. How came you by such a craft, Captain?